10 Movie

by Parnell Hall

  Murky gave Sergeant Clark a look, then stomped off toward the set.

  “You really think that’s true?” I asked Sergeant Clark.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, who could have gotten on board the ship to tamper with the equipment? I mean, they’d have had to have come up the gangplank. Someone would have seen them.”

  “The caterers came up.”

  “What?”

  “And some people were there already. Jason Clairemont. Sidney Garfellow. The bodyguard and the AD. And who’d have given it a moment’s thought if, while they were waiting for lunch, one of them had wandered over to the set.”

  My eyes widened. “You really think they did?”

  “Not at all,” Clark said. “I don’t really suspect anything of the kind. I just want the man to check his equipment. Now he will.”

  MacAullif and I got coffee and strolled over to the set. Sure enough, there was Murky Doyle puttering with his Nagra. He didn’t look pleased. Of course, that was his normal expression. But after his conversation with Sergeant Clark, I had a feeling he was pissed off to find his equipment hadn’t been tampered with.

  While MacAullif and I stood watching, someone switched on the power, lighting up the set. It was Vivian’s apartment. Vivian, of course, was Hot Babe Number Two. Though, actually, it occurred to me, she would be Hot Babe Number One. Because, chronologically, she is the first hot babe in the script. But as I said, you don’t shoot a movie in sequence. So Blaire, whom I’d come to think of as Hot Babe Number One, was really the second hot babe in the script. And Vivian, whom I’d referred to as Hot Babe Number Two, was really Hot Babe Number One.

  Don’t worry, there won’t be a quiz on this later. I’m just trying to keep it straight in my own head.

  Anyway, Vivian is the first hot babe Rick calls on when he breaks out of prison. That’s because she used to be his girlfriend. You see, they had a prior relationship. That’s why it was so stupid from a dramatic point of view for Rick and Blaire to have had a prior relationship. Because then it’s the same fucking relationship, and you wind up shooting the same fucking scene.

  I’m sorry. I’m just not rational on the subject.

  Anyway, while we watched, the crew began readying the set, which had been designed by the art director, Mr. This-will-do-nicely, and constructed in the middle of the second floor of the warehouse. It was a modern apartment, consisting of Vivian’s bedroom and bath. The latter was complete with fixtures, including toilet, sink, and shower. The toilet and sink were not functional, but the shower had been equipped with hot and cold running water.

  That’s where the partial nudity came in.

  In the scene I had written, Vivian is taking a shower when Rick, who has broken into her apartment, suddenly joins her. This allows for a Psycho parody, but the real humor in the scene comes from the fact that when Rick steps into the shower he is fully clothed.

  Vivian isn’t.

  And, condemn me or not, but in my humble opinion, that was probably why in this particular instance the crew was attacking the set with more vigor than they were usually wont to display.

  “Are they gonna keep us out?” MacAullif said.

  I didn’t have to ask what he meant—when the babe got in the shower, was Sidney going to declare a closed set and boot the crew?

  “I don’t know.”

  “You seen her yet?” MacAullif asked.

  Actually, I hadn’t. I’d never met the actress Sidney had cast and, due to the efficiency of the second AD, who’d called her from the ship when it had started to rain, she’d actually beaten us to the warehouse and was now in makeup.

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “If she’s anything like yesterday ...” MacAullif shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

  Actually, she wasn’t. And when I saw her, my estimation of Sidney went up a notch.

  She was a real person.

  The actress playing Vivian was a young woman of medium height and weight with medium-length brown hair, straight and cut in bangs, framing a bright, intelligent, schoolgirl face. She was full-figured, but not disproportionately so. As opposed to Hot Babe Number Four, the actress playing Vivian was an actual human being.

  “So, what do you think?” Sidney said, appearing between me and MacAullif and clapping us on the shoulder.

  “Huh?” MacAullif said. “What do you mean?”

  “Her,” Sidney said. He jerked his thumb out at the set, where the actress, dressed in sweater and skirt, was checking the props in her bedroom.

  “Oh,” MacAullif said. “Well ...”

  “Isn’t she gorgeous?” Sidney said.

  “Yes, but ...”

  “But what?”

  “Well, the one you had yesterday—too bad she’s not going in the shower.”

  “Well, there’s where you’re wrong,” Sidney said. “The girl yesterday, I got her on the boat, she jumps up, flashes her boobs, that’s fine and we’re done with her.” He pointed. “Now, this girl here. She’s gonna strip and get in the shower. And let me tell you, the audience is gonna dig this more than that. Why? You see a stripper take her clothes off, no big deal, it’s what she does. But you see an ordinary person. Like her. It’s something else. It’s the girl next door, taking her clothes off. The mind boggles.”

  Sidney paused, nodded in agreement with himself. “I did a documentary, Down and Dirty. You saw it, Stanley. You know. I’ve studied this shit. What turns people on. And here we have it both ways. We have the fantasy woman on the boat, and the reality woman in the shower. Hell, you wouldn’t wanna shoot the same scene twice.”

  The thought unless Jason Clairemont rewrote it sprang to mind, but I did not voice it.

  Sidney looked up at MacAullif and must have seen doubt on his face, ’cause he chucked him on the shoulder, said, “Hey, trust me,” and went to check out the camera.

  MacAullif may have had doubts, but mine sure vanished fast. Because I’d seen Sidney’s documentaries back when we’d first started working on the script, and I knew the man wasn’t kidding. Arousing prurient interest happened to be his strong suit. And when the unnamed actress playing Vivian, or Hot Babe Number One, or Two, as you prefer, who wasn’t a hot babe at all but an actual woman, a living, breathing human being, began taking her clothes off, it was exciting as hell.

  As for the partial-nudity bit, well, that’s what it said in the script. Because that’s what we’d see on the screen. That’s the way Sidney was shooting the shot.

  But the actress herself was totally nude. She took off her sweater and she took off her skirt. And then she took off her bra and she took off her panties. And then she turned on the shower and she stepped in.

  And Sidney didn’t close the set. We gathered around and we saw it all. Believe me, it was standing room only. Even Papa from the catering truck. Even the teamsters, who’d driven their trucks up in the elevator. The whole world watched that scene shot.

  If that bothered the actress any, she sure didn’t show it. Boy, she was good. She took off her clothes without the slightest hint of embarrassment, just as if she were alone in her apartment. Then she went in the bathroom, turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, got in the shower, and then and only then pulled the curtain closed.

  Setting up the entrance of nerdy twerp superstar.

  And here he came, giving his Tony Perkins impression. He reached the shower curtain and, as the camera panned up his back, grabbed the top of the curtain and gave a yank.

  The curtain flies open and Vivian gives a startled cry and wheels around to discover:

  Rick, fully dressed and standing in the stream of water that hit him as soon as she spun around and moved out of it.

  “You!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”

  Which wouldn’t have been that bad if Blaire didn’t say exactly the same thing in Jason Clairemont’s rewrite.

  And if what he was doing there didn’t happen to be standing on a box. Because, as I said, the actress was o
f average height, and, Jason being short, the relationship wasn’t going to play. So the set crew had built a three-inch-high platform to cover approximately a third of the bottom of the shower where Jason had to stand. Otherwise, when the babe wheeled around she might slap him in the face with her tits.

  All right, it wasn’t really that bad. With the platform he was actually an inch or two taller than her. No, I’m just a middle-aged married man resenting the fact he’s a young movie star and that he’s in there now with this gorgeous naked woman who’s about to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

  Which she did.

  Jason said, “Just dropped in for a shower.”

  Which I had actually written. I guess he hadn’t had time to change it yet. But this being a cover set that they hadn’t rehearsed, it occurred to me he’d probably rewrite it before they shot.

  It also occurred to me it wasn’t that great a line. Out of all the lines of dialogue he could choose to leave alone, the kid has to pick that one?

  Anyway, Vivian said, “Oh, Rick,” and threw her arms around his neck.

  Hugging him to her. Pressing her body against his. Pressing her firm, young, full breasts to die for up against his chest. Till not just me, but I’d bet you every man in the place secretly wished he were him.

  It had just occurred to me, to my chagrin, that I’d been so caught up in what I’d been watching that I hadn’t even noticed that Murky Doyle had rolled sound ages ago and nothing bad had happened, when a sandbag whizzed from the ceiling and sent Jason Clairemont, nerdy twerp superstar, crashing to the shower floor.

  31.

  NO, HE WASN’T HURT. IT didn’t hit him on the head. It smashed the platform he was standing on, and he fell.

  It could have killed him. It nearly did. Just a few inches was all.

  Actually, the actress saved his life. Pulled him toward her slightly in the embrace. Had she leaned in to him, they might both be dead. As it was, he was shaken but unharmed.

  Not that that cheered Sergeant Clark any. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so upset. He actually raised his voice.

  Clark strode out in the middle of the set and said, “All right, nobody move!” He turned, pointed to Jason. “Are you all right?”

  Rather shakily Jason said, “I think so.”

  “Fine. You can move. Get up and get out of there. You too, miss. Get your robe on and get out of here. Everyone else, stay where you are.”

  Clark wheeled on MacAullif. “Sergeant, take the door. See that no one goes in or out. Is that the only exit?”

  “There’s a back door, but it’s usually locked.”

  “Is it locked?” Clark demanded.

  “It’s locked,” Jake Decker said. I hadn’t even realized he was there.

  “Good,” Clark said. “Are there any other exits?”

  “Just the freight elevator.”

  “Which will not be used,” Clark said. “Is that clear? No one’s leaving here till I have a list of everyone on the floor. Where’s the script supervisor?”

  “Huh? Right here,” Clarity said.

  “Yes. Miss Gray, is it? If you’d do me the favor. You have pencil and paper, you’re good at taking notes. If you would assist Sergeant MacAullif, please. I want to clear this area, send everyone downstairs. If you would please check them off as they go. That’s right, over there with Sergeant MacAullif. Go on now, thank you very much.”

  “See here,” Sidney said. “You can’t stop me from shooting.”

  “I just did,” Sergeant Clark said. “And if you thought about it, you wouldn’t object. This was no accident. This was an attempt on Jason Clairemont’s life. One that very nearly succeeded. You can hire all the bodyguards you like and give speeches on TV, that’s fine in terms of publicity, but you must see it hasn’t done a particle of good in terms of protecting your star. I don’t want to tell you your business, but I should think that would be your first priority. As for right now, I expect your entire cooperation. Help me out here and you might be shooting before the afternoon’s over, though frankly I doubt it. But stand around and argue and I guarantee you there’ll be no time for anything at all.”

  For a moment the two men stood there glaring at each other. It was almost funny. Sidney towered over Clark, but it was clear which man had the upper hand. I wondered how Sidney would save face.

  He did so by agreeing wholeheartedly, probably even as newspaper headlines danced in his head. “All right, you heard the man,” Sidney said, addressing us all. “There’s been an attack on our star. It’s rally-round time. We gotta close ranks, pull together. Get beyond this. Above all, we gotta show Jason we’re in his corner. Anyone who doesn’t cooperate with the sergeant here will answer to me personally.”

  Sergeant Clark, ever pragmatic, was quite content to let that self-serving statement stand. “Thank you, Mr. Garfellow. To begin with, I want everyone downstairs. Please, everyone form a line at the door. Sign out with Sergeant MacAullif and wait downstairs.”

  Sergeant Clark turned. “Except you, Mr. Clairemont. Please stay here.” He turned to the bodyguard, who was hovering solicitously if somewhat sheepishly and who gave the impression that while not quite bright enough to figure out if this was actually his fault, still he had managed to grasp the idea some people might not be entirely satisfied with the performance of his job. “You too, Mr. Pollack,” Clark added with just a trace of irony. “If you would be so kind.”

  Clark turned to the actress. “You too, ma’am. And you, Mr. Garfellow. The rest of you, line up and check out.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant me. I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t want to ask either. As a compromise I got on the end of the line, so I could talk to MacAullif after everyone else left.

  Fortunately, that didn’t take very long. Clarity was efficient. She also had a crew list. She didn’t have to write the names, just check ’em off. Within minutes they were all downstairs and I had reached the door.

  “Is that everybody?” I said.

  “Seems to be,” MacAullif said.

  “You want me downstairs?”

  “Good lord, no,” MacAullif said. “I want you up here to solve the crime.”

  If Clarity hadn’t been standing there I would have had a choice comment. As it was I just smiled. At least I wasn’t headed downstairs.

  “Here’s the list,” Clarity said. “Do you want it, or should I hang onto it?”

  “No, I’ll take it,” MacAullif said. “Thanks.”

  “Should I wait downstairs?”

  “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  Clarity smiled. “Then I’ll check me off.”

  She did so, handed the list to MacAullif, went downstairs.

  “I think she likes you,” I said when she was out of earshot.

  “Don’t start with me,” MacAullif said. “We are in deep shit.”

  “Clark’s really pissed, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is. Do you know why?”

  “’Cause Sidney’s bodyguard didn’t do any good.”

  “Fuck the bodyguard. Who gives a damn about him. We didn’t do any good. Me, you, Clark. But particularly him. Look what happens here. The boom man does a brodie right in front of our noses, we don’t see nothing. Well, we weren’t lookin’ for it. But now we’re all on the set, we’re all lookin’ out for everything. You, me, Clark, we’re all there, ever vigilant. And what happens? The kid almost gets taken out, and we don’t see a thing.”

  “It happens.”

  “Yeah, it happens. But it couldn’t have happened worse. You know why?” MacAullif jerked his thumb. “Her. The babe. There’s a naked broad running around. A nudie cutie on the set. Now, it don’t make two shits worth of difference, ’cause no one would have seen the thing comin’ anyway. But as far as the brass are concerned, we’re all standin’ around with our dicks hangin’ out, oglin’ a pair of tits while a murder attempt is taking place. And what’s the implication? If we hadn’t been droolin’ over the naked broad, we would ha
ve seen who did it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Did you see who did it?”

  “No.”

  “There you are.”

  “If you gentlemen wouldn’t mind.”

  MacAullif and I turned to see Sergeant Clark standing there.

  “I hate to interrupt,” he said. “But we do have this murder attempt. If you wouldn’t mind.”

  I can’t think of anyone else in the world Sergeant MacAullif would have let talk to him like that. It occurred to me, it wasn’t as though Clark was his superior officer—they were both homicide sergeants. But in Sergeant Clark’s case, MacAullif never seemed to answer in kind.

  “Right,” MacAullif said. “We were just discussing our present publicity problem.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Clark said. “It’s just an unfortunate situation. When Sidney Garfellow gives his next press interview, we are going to look like the Three Stooges. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Trying to suppress it would make us look even worse.”

  During this, Sergeant Clark had led us back over to the set, which was now bare.

  “Where is everyone?” MacAullif said.

  Clark pointed. “In wardrobe. The woman’s getting dressed. Jason Clairemont is hanging out with his bodyguard. Sidney Garfellow is with them. I left him nominally in charge.”

  “To keep him away from the press?”

  “Partly. I want him up here out of harm’s way.”

  “Him?” I said. “This was clearly an attack on Jason.”

  “Perhaps,” Sergeant Clark said. “But even so. He strikes me as a secondary target somehow. Anyway, his job is keeping them entertained and away from us. Which will also keep him away from us.”

  “So what have we got?” MacAullif said.

  “Your simple, basic booby trap. I’d like to leave it there for the time being, but do take a look.” He stepped aside, indicating the bathroom. “I’ve turned the water off,” he said, “but aside from that, it’s just the way it was.”

  MacAullif and I squeezed past the camera and took a look.

  The sandbag was lying in the middle of the shower floor. There was a good-sized pool of water around it, as it happened to be blocking the drain. Pieces of wood from the splintered platform floated in the water.